Makeouts of the Sloppy Variety
by Satan Abraham
Summary: It's awkward when you're young, paralyzed from the waist down, and unsure how you feel about one of your only friends. PB&J. Oneshot.


Your name is Tavros Nitram and you really wish that Gamzee had suggested meeting at your hive.

You've spent all night rolling your way through Alternia – luckily, you live a lot closer to Gamzee than you originally thought, otherwise you probably would've gotten eaten by something before you got there – and by the time you get to Gamzee's hive you're sweaty, breathing hard, and seriously exhausted. He's standing outside his hive, grinning, but when he sees you, his grin turns into a look of dismay.

"Aw, shit bro, I should've gone to your hive!" he says, rushing over to you. You shake your head, too out-of-breath to say anything. You're fine. He still looks a little worried, but he opens the door for you.

One problem. It's not wide enough for your four-wheeled device. He's a lot more distraught than you are. "I'm so motherfucking sorry," he says after you bump into the sides of the doorframe. "I should've thought more about my best motherfucking bro when I invited you out here."

"It's okay," you say. "I can just, maybe wheel on home-"

"You'll get motherfucking burned up! The sun's gonna come up any second now. I can figure this out," he says, and then spends a few minutes just standing there looking at you. You don't know if he's zoning out or if he's actually trying to fix the problem, but you figure that if you maybe just fall out of your four-wheeled device and crawl into Gamzee's hive it should be fine. You can leave your four-wheeled device outside.

You start to push yourself onto the ground when Gamzee grabs onto you, lifting you up in an awkward one-armed way. You shriek a little and cling to him as he carries you inside, setting you down on a chair and going back for your four-wheeled device. You're still a little freaked out by being picked up and carried, so you don't say anything while he struggles with getting it folded up so that he can carry it in. "When you go home I can motherfucking push you, alright my best motherfucking bro?" he asks.

"That would probably be, a little faster, and a more efficient way to do things," you say, and he smiles at you, ruffling your Mohawk. You blush a little, and you can't be sure underneath that clown makeup, but you think that maybe he does too.

"I'm so motherfucking hungry," he says. "I bet you are too, rolling around outside all night. I've got a lot of my wicked elixir and my motherfucking pies, but…"

"I could go for some Faygo, maybe," you say, even though you're not a big fan of Faygo. You didn't want to decline him completely and you're definitely not eating any of that sopor slime pie. Who knows what it'll do to you? But you are hungry. Maybe he has something else, too. "And if you have something else, maybe, that doesn't involve sopor slime."

"I could make you a peanut butter and jelly sandwich," he suggests. You nod. "Are you all up and sure you don't want any motherfucking pie?"

"Yes, I am definitely all up and sure that I definitely do not want any pie," you say, and he leaves the room. You hear him singing to himself as he gets himself some pie and you your sandwich. Not throwing down sick fires, like you and him do regularly – maybe you'll take a little time to do that while you're in the near vicinity of each other, you think you'd like that, probably – just singing. After a few minutes he comes back, holding two bottles of Faygo in one hand and your sandwich in the other.

"My motherfucking pie's not done yet," he says, and you're glad that no sopor slime got near your sandwich, because you really are starving. You practically inhale the sandwich – you would've preferred strawberry jam instead of grape jelly, probably, but it's good. "So, bro, are you ready for those sloppy makeouts?"

You freeze and practically feel yourself blush. To be honest, you're not sure about how you feel about your best bro – whether it's that red or not. You know that he's already got a moirail, and you don't want to give the imperial drones another reason to cull you (they will anyway, but if you have full quadrants it might not be as painful). "I, um," you say around another mouthful of your sandwich. "I'm not quite sure, that I am quite ready for, makeouts of the sloppy variety."

"Can I motherfucking kiss you?" he asks. Um. Wow. He's very straightforward and you really don't know how to answer. When you don't, he asks again. "I really just want to all up and kiss you right now, but if you don't motherfucking want to that's okay. My best motherfucking bro doesn't have to do anything he doesn't want to."

"I think that possibly, it would be alright, as long as it wasn't too sloppy, or too makeout-y," you say, even though makeout-y isn't even a word. He smiles and you're glad. You really like it when he smiles, even though he's smiling almost all the time. He always looks so happy about everything, and maybe he doesn't always think of everything he should, but he tries, and he's really nice, and also he's kissing you. It's awkward. You don't know what to do and he doesn't know what to do but you try, and when he moves away from you, a worried look on his face, you smile at him.

"Was that okay?" he asks.

"Yes, I think, that that was okay and that you could probably do that again," you say, and his face lights up like you just promised to do some sort of weird alien ritual in which two organisms proclaim their flushed feelings for each other by giving each other rings. Even though you know that that sounds kind of stupid and probably doesn't and never will exist, you do think that the thought of it is kind of nice. "And maybe, we could work our way up, to other things, such as maybe the sloppy makeouts."

"Shit, Tavbro, that's awesome!" he says. He's really happy and you're glad that you made him happy. He kisses you again and you feel sort of giddy. You like it when he kisses you even though neither of you really know you're doing and you're getting his weird clown makeup all over you and you like it when he calls you his 'best motherfucking bro' and you just really like Gamzee Makara, shortcomings and all.

You think that, maybe, your feelings have the possibility to be really, really red for this troll.

* * *

**agh these two**


End file.
